I know our actions don't represent anyone other than ourselves. Still, it's hard to remember that. For example, if someone has seen a counselor they didn't like, then their Mom wants them to come see me, I have extra work to do at the start to "prove" I'm different then who they saw before, because they think their previous counselor represents all counselors.  So, nine years ago when I met this gentleman I knew this man didn't represent the Irish nation, but he embedded such a memory with me, it's hard to remember it was him that did this, and not all of Ireland.
     It was our last day in wonderful Ireland, and we were in Dublin. Just like the old days here at home, Sundays are primarily a day of rest over there. Thus, few restaurants were open Sunday morning, and we were starving. We went into a packed restaurant, and when a waitress told us they had no more room, I went into tragic-begging mode. Out of kindness and pity, she found a tiny spot for us to sit. We were seated only a few feet away from a family of four: a mother, father and their two daughters. I guessed the girls were about thirteen and sixteen years old. We had a brief conversation with them, and when I told them we were from the States, specifically Texas, he told me his agent advised  him that he should visit the "cultural" part of Texas: Marfa. Marfa? So I gave him a few additional recommendations of places he could also visit. Basically everywhere else in Texas.
     Denise and I began eating our beloved breakfast, and I noticed almost everyone else had long since finished. That’s what they do: they visit. I had noted the sixteen year old daughter had basically never stopped talking with her parents. No earbuds. No scowl. Just talk. It was a pleasure to behold. I really wanted to say something to the parents, but I was a long way from home to be so uninhibited, so I didn’t. When they finally left after a two hour breakfast, we all said a quick farewell. A minute later the waitress came over with two flutes of champagne. It was a little early to enjoy champagne, and besides, I didn’t order it. When I told the waitress, she said, “oh, the gentleman at the door ordered it for ye”. So I jumped up before they could all get out the door to thank him for his kindness and generosity. So I told him what I had been thinking: “I was a little hesitant to tell you this because I thought I would appear a little too strange, but I am a counselor in Texas, and work with a lot of teenagers. To watch the interaction of your family, and particularly your older daughter who never tired of talking to you, speaks highly not only of your family, but you as a father.” And he tipped his derby slightly towards me and replied: “that, sir, is worth far more than a glass of champagne.” With that, he shook my hand and left.
     When I got back to the table, the waitress returned to ask us, “so how do ye know Mr. Banville?” I told her that we had just met him in the restaurant, and who was he? She seemed genuinely surprised and answered: “Mr. Banville? He’s the most celebrated author in all the UK. Why just recently  he received the highest honor in literature, the Booker Prize.” Yow! A Really Famous Person. And a fine gentleman and father. We left the restaurant and found an open bookstore. Not only did they have John Banville, but they had an entire section for him. He is a prolific and renowned author. It was a fine way to depart this beautiful country.
     So years later, even though I know our actions only represent ourselves, nevertheless, I think of Ireland as a whole bunch of John Banvilles, showing  kindness and class. It’s not logical or necessarily accurate, but I suspect it may be a universal truth: right or wrong, our actions represent a great number of people. I think I’m going to have to start working harder at showing kindness, generosity and a lot more class.

When Denise gave birth to our firstborn, we were fortunate to have a remarkable young pediatrician. We met him at a lecture at San Jose State, and he shared with we young expectant parents some excellent advice. One gem he shared was the fact that many physicians give you confident, educated advice as to what to do. However, as he reminded us, the doctor is usually expressing his opinion rather than an absolute truth. Topics may include nursing vs. bottle feeding, when to introduce solids, how long to let your baby cry, etc. He continued that the doctor's advice is hopefully worth seriously listening to, but we should keep in mind there is a difference between unequivocal proof and a strongly worded opinion.
 
I remember that important piece of information so many years later in my own counseling work. I will often preface my statements with, “in my opinion”. Hopefully, it’s still worth considering, but it’s rarely an absolute statement of scientifically established fact.
 
I believe many noisy, often angry "debates" would be softened by the person, at the very least, reminding themselves that they are expressing their strongly felt opinion. Again, it is rarely a presentation of an unequivocal scientifically established fact. In this day and age of opposite beliefs: liberal and conservative, religious and anti-religion, gun control and no gun control, immigration, drug legalization, bathrooms, etc., we should remind ourselves we are merely representing our own opinions. They may be worthy of debate, but not the disgust and extreme anger that we have allowed ourselves to be consumed by. That is, in my opinion.

So, the query might begin, "how, oh wiseguy.... I mean wiseman, can I enhance my marriage? We have no more problems than most, but things are somewhat monotonous and, well, as you might call it: zombie-like. Ideas counselorman?"
Should the question arise, I believe it worth addressing. First of all, our long marriages (long friendships as well) will become somewhat predictable. We should have realistic expectations that all days will not be like our beginning days of  falling in love. That being said, we must be cautious not to use that reality as an excuse for lack of creativity and work. There are things we did naturally, and with no effort in our beginning days that have been forgotten due to complacency. For example, she may get looking mighty snappy as she departs for work, but rarely gets extra snappy looking for her husband (and obviously, vice versa). He used to tuck in his shirt and comb his hair before he arrived home. In our dating days, we used to want to give a good impression to our date, but we get used to each other, and don't think about it.
So here's the idea: [sometimes] I'll drive home from work and start pretending I am heading over to this cute, curly-haired girl's house for my second date with her. She's invited me for supper, and has told me I can just park next to her in the garage. Cool. When I go in the back door, I can smell she's been cooking something up for me. Again: cool. After all, she's been working today, same as me, but she hurried home to make something for me. Yow! She's happy to see me, and I greet her with a kiss. This is almost too good to be true. If this really was our second date, how amazing would this be? How would I show my appreciation? Help her clean the kitchen afterwards? Sit around that evening and talk and talk and talk? Now we have to be grateful on purpose, and you know, why on earth would that be a big deal? It's not pretend, it's only a fun little game to do once in a while. And, as a bonus, you only need one player. And you can keep it to yourself. As a matter of fact, you probably should. As marriage enhancers go, this one's free. And fun.

Three years ago I was ad libbing a response to a question when I finally figured it out.

We were at Mass in Corpus Christi three years ago, to celebrate our 39th wedding anniversary. At the end of Mass, the priest asked, "anyone here celebrating an anniversary?"  I thought he was just going to toss us out a nice blessing, so I raised my hand along with an older woman. He then asked, "so what's the secret of your long marriage"? Uh oh. I hadn't planned on being called on, but it was  too dang late. He asked the woman first. She responded, "perseverance". Everyone chuckled. Then he remembered I had put my hand up, so he asked me, "is your secret perseverance"?  I really wanted to say something like: "that's a pretty insulting remark- you know, 'I can hardly stand him, but I'm hanging on'. Sheesh". But instead I responded, "No. Perseverance has nothing to do with it. I remind myself, pretty much on a daily basis of the incredible gift God has given me, and I give continual thanks." I wish I had concluded with: "And that's a fact, Jack", but I didn't think of it until later. Anyway, when I made my statement, I could hear a bunch of "ahhhhhh"s. You know, like ahhhh, isn't that sweet? Hey, I thought we were supposed to be in love. I mean, when I married her I was crazy in love. She's even better now than 39 years ago. Does everyone think a permanent relationship is supposed to be endured? How about the idea we all get to invent our marriages? Invent how to impress our spouse after ten years, twenty years, forty-two years. Perhaps everyone's into zombie movies so much they've turned into a zombie themselves. Maybe I'll make that my mantra: de-zombify our marriages. It's our forty-second anniversary today, and I'm even more thankful than I was three years ago. The zombie life isn’t for me.